Lend me a hand
by Meritamun
Summary: "Slag! What the hell?" were the first words Ratchet snapped, temper provoked by the frontliner and the scout's antics. "Bulkhead. Bumblebee. What do you think you are doing?" He waved his arm around and happened to hit Bumblebee with the wrench he was holding. / A rather unpleasent bickering led the medic and scout to something unexpected. Rated M for further chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_Nanoclick: 1 second_  
_Astrosecond: 273 seconds_  
_Cycle: 1 minute_  
_Breem: 8.3 minutes_  
_Groon: 1 hour_  
_Orbital Cycle: 1 day_  
_Mechanometer: Meter_

***~***

It had been rather silent in the past orbital cycles. But like the quiet before the storm, every one of the 'Bots at the hidden outpost could feel something was brewing under the surface. It spread an uneasy feeling between the fellow soldiers. While Ratchet kept himself distracted with his attempt to make earth material adaptable to fit their repair needs, Optimus was turned towards their control panel - keeping an eye on all the gauges and displays. Arcee had left the command centre a groon before to recharge.  
The inexplicable reason of why the Decepticons had been covered in silence tingled under their chassis. But the only two Cybertronians who were unable to handle the current situation of waiting and seeing were Bulkhead and Bumblebee. Bored as they were, the tension was rising and while Ratchet tried to concentrate on his work, he couldn't help but glance over his broad shoulders every other breem. He suspected the anticipation would lead the two young ones down the path of something that would interfere with his work.

With a low grumble Ratchet looked over his shoulder, when an annoyed beeping sound was heard in the otherwise silent command centre. He spotted Bumblebee leaning against the banister of the hideout corner of their human companions. Fiddling with the remote control, the yellow sport car zapped through the channels in a ridiculous speed, not paying attention to anything shown on the screen. With Jack's, Miko's and especially Raf's absence, the bustling Camaro seem to suffer from restlessness.  
A cycle before, he had asked Bulkhead to race with him, but the Wrecker had declined as it was obvious that he wouldn't beat the speedster their scout was. And while Ratchet let his gaze wander around the room, he wondered where Bulkhead had headed off to. With any luck he had followed Arcee into recharge which would decrease the chance of him getting distracted in his work, which he planned to get done in the next groon.  
With a faint smile on his dermal plating, he faced the metal in front of him. He mourned the time back on Cybertron when despite all the bottlenecks they had during war, he had never had to be worried about not being able to repair one of his comrades.

"The faster you go, the more likely it is that a cable will fuse." Ratchet stopped for an astrosecond in his movement when Bulkhead re-entered the command centre, coming from their private quarters area. He approached the younger scout, knowing that Bumblebee wouldn't turn down an open provocation if it caused an interlude to the tedium.  
With a sigh, the white and crimson medic picked up the metal plate in front of him, reviewing his work and estimating if it was of any use for them. He made a determined effort to overhear the bickering between Bumblebee and Bulkhead, starting up just a few mechanometers away from him. The cybertronian clicking and beeping gained on an annoyed nuance which each response he gave to the green wrecker. With a low groan Ratchet turned around to their leader, who stood unaffected from the current situation in front of the monitors he was observing. One word from Optimus would silence the two of them, but the medic knew that Optimus would not interfere at this point.  
The urge to throw his wrench at one of the young ones, or both of them, was enormous, but the medic had to admit that he needed his tool if he ever wanted to finish what he was doing and, if Primus was gracious, the two of them would be tired of this sooner or later.

The remote control slipped out from Bumblebee's servos and triggered a glare from the medic, not that either of them would truly care while squabbling. Agitated beeping was directed towards Bulkhead when Bumblebee shoved himself past his brother in arms.  
The green Autobot stumbled back a few steps and the amused expression on his face faded. "You had better save your anger for the Cons," he snapped to Bumblebee's backside as the younger 'bot walked away from him.  
Ratchet turned, again, back to his work and tried to focus on what he was about to do. Throwing his wrench? Appealing, but he had already shelved it for a later occasion. He scanned the floor for the wires he needed and spotted them not far from him. He lifted himself to his knee joints.  
His audios heard Bee's steps approaching his position, but he couldn't care less. But when he heard a scratching sound from metal on metal, he couldn't care more. Just in time, Ratchet turned around to see the yellow 'bot stumbling over an abandoned piece of metal which had lain behind him.  
A grey hand reached for the doorwing of the scout, trying to keep Bumblebee on his pedes, but shoved him forward instead. With a loud clank, Bumblebee landed on the white and crimson colored Autobot, who fell forward on the piece of something he was working on for the past joors. Bee sprawled over the back of the older mech, who landed in the shards of his futile efforts. And for a nanoclick everything went silent.

"Slag! What the hell?" were the first words Ratchet snapped, temper provoked by the frontliner and the scout's antics. "Bulkhead. Bumblebee. What do you think you are doing?" He waved his arm around and happened to hit Bumblebee with the wrench he was holding. The yellow scout protested and held the part of his helmet the medic had hit. "Frag, I don't care if you say you are innocent! Look what you've done. It is hard on this planet to even find compatible material." Ratchet struggled to get up, but the weight on his back made it hard to accomplish. "Would you mind getting off me?" he snapped.  
The yellow sport car crawled off the Medic. Beeping his apologies, he offered a hand to help him get up.  
"Hey Ratchet, I am sorry." Bulkhead looked troubled when the addressed medic looked down on the floor and back to him. "See, we can help you fix it."  
His mouth already open for a response, Ratchet kept silent and returned the honest gaze with disbelief. He crossed his arms in front of his body and chuckled, unamused. "I have a good impression of what your help looks like." He looked at Bumblebee. "Don't give me that look, it won't work this time," he scowled.

"That might not be a bad idea, Ratchet", the deep and calming voice of their leader said, soothing the uplifting storm of the conversation. All three of them turned around to Optimus, who had turned away from the monitors. "When you feel like you don't get credit for your much appreciated work, you should give them an idea of it."  
"But Optimus, I am handling sensitive material and tasks. Not to mention that their coding is not related to mine," the white and crimson colored Autobot objected.  
"Teach them. I am sure you will be a good mentor, if not for repairing, then for growing the respect you think they lack." His speech was interrupted by a sound coming from the control panel behind him.  
Ratchet sighed. Knowing that the decision was made he turned around to his two unwanted assistants. He gave in to the urge, and hit his wrench against Bulkhead's helm to give him his share of the incident. "Let's clean up and…" Bumblebee interrupted him and looked at him questioningly. "...and let's start from scratch. I'll explain to you what this was and what I need it for. Sit down." Ratchet motioned for them to sit beside him and both of the Autobots followed his request.

"Smokescreen has discovered possible Decepticon activities. He requests a backup," Optimus's voice drew the focus of the group toward him.  
Ratchet saw how both of the troublemakers were tempted to get on their pedes. But neither of them dared to abandon the punishment which the Prime had cast upon them.  
"I hope you don't mind if I take Bulkhead with me." Optimus shifted his gaze towards the Wrecker. "Ratchet will have you back later on," he added before the expression of relief could implant on the frontliner's face.  
Bumblebee looked as if he was dumped without fuel in the middle of a highway. He was as quickly back on his pedes as Bulkhead, facing Prime, ready to discuss the decision.  
"Bumblebee." His leader was highly aware of the reaction he had provoked. "Helping Ratchet is as important as following up Smokescreen's observation. I believe you don't want to leave him alone with it." He had successfully called on Bumblebee's guilty conscience, as the whirring and beeping stopped together with his upset gestures. Instead he crossed his arms in front of his chassis and let himself fall back to the ground, obviously pouting while his door wings sank down to indicate his dash of frustration.  
"Primus," the medic mumbled and stood up to close the Groundbridge after the departure of their two team members.

When he turned back to Bumblebee, the mess on the floor had decreased. The yellow bot had rearranged it in piles of wires, metal, and tools. Ratchet took the good intentions in account but growled as he faced the, what had Miko called it once? Puppy-dog eyes the Scout was capable of giving whenever he was in serious trouble. And they gave Ratchet a hard time when used on him.  
"Once we're finished, I'll think about acknowledging your apology", he said and joined him back on the floor.  
Bumblebee raised the piece of metal in front of him which had made him stumble before he fell on Ratchet.  
"It is not the best match, but the best I could find to assure that I can fix you up when the Decepticons managed to hit you. I was about to find out how much it fit our needs regarding agility and stability when you fell on me," he explained when the yellow Autobot asked his question with the whirring and clicking he had to use to communicate with his comrades. Ratchet's expression was overshadowed in concern when Bumblebee asked another one.  
"I refuse to think of a moment when I can't repair you properly anymore. Thought it happened before…" The last part of his sentence was more a low mumbling to himself than directed to the yellow sports car, whose expression changed into sorrow, not for the loss of his voice box but how Ratchet still burdened himself with it. Before he could respond to him, the medic was sliding closer. "Let's get some work done before they are come back and need my attention." He picked up the work material and started to explain the desired purpose of the piece of junk he had ripped of an abandoned car.

Bumblebee was listening to him and even his restless moving around seemed a little bit less since the white and crimson Mech gave him his full attention. With Ratchet's guidance the both of them caught up quickly on their work. The servos of the scout were never made to create or depend on sensitive sensors. The medic had to place his servos upon the younger one and observe everything he was doing. It was a different experience to see the ever so restless Autobot work quietly and concentrated while engaged in work that wasn't his own.  
"You have to be more careful when connecting wires. Imagine you have your hands on your lover." Ratchet's voice was calm for once when he leaned over the shoulder of the smaller mech, making sure he didn't blow them up with a wrong move - and Primus knew, Wheeljack had blown up the base with less than two wires and a power source. Actually he only would need the power source.  
Letting his thoughts slip into memories from a long time ago, the Medic felt how Bumblebee had stiffened in front of him. Even his two hands with which he held the two cables came to a hold. Ratchet raised his optic brows. Just when he was about to scan the scout to see if his system had crashed of an unknown reason, Bumblebee came back to life. In a fast pace he beeped and clicked, making Ratchet laugh. When he felt a sting of embarrassment in Bumblebee's EM field, he patted his arm and curled his derma plating in a smile the smaller bot wouldn't see unless he turned around.

"There is quite a bit of similarity between a lover and the work we perform here. Both need a tender attention. Knowing you are creating it for someone of your own kind, you want to make sure it is the best you can provide." Ratchet explained and guided Bumblebees servo back to their task. "There is no need to be embarrassed anyway." He let his own EM field wrap around Bee with a soothing emotion to make him feel better. But before the two endings of the cable touched to close the circuit, the scout paused and leaned his helm back against the broad chassis of the medic.  
Blue optics met blue optics when Ratchet looked down to his assistant in curiosity. He stopped his own attempt to get them working on their prototype, but he didn't let go of the black servos in his. "What is it?"  
Bumblebee hesitated for an astrosecond and shifted his gaze away from Ratchet before he started to say what was on his processor. But he was quick at glaring back to the medic when he laughed once again. Ratchet felt a wave of frustration and hurt feelings through their mingled EM fields.  
"Easy little Bee, no offence. I always forget how young you were when the war had started." With a sigh the expression on Ratchet's face softened. "To wrap it up, Raf had asked you about Cybertronian life and demanded comparable action to their organic behaviour."  
The yellow sports car nodded and responded, flustered.  
"I am sure you were able to provide him a lot of information. Maybe I can help you with the things you didn't know how to respond to."

The Camaro hesitated and Ratchet gave him the time to explain what made him obviously feel uneasy. He kept to transmitting a soothing emotion and hoped that he could make him feel more comfortable. Another nanoclick passed before Bumblebee explained the procedure of kissing, which Raf had given to him. Once, Bumblebee also saw how June forced Jack to give her a kiss on the cheek. But he didn't understood the need of the humans for this kind of touch.  
There was silence for an astrosecond. Ratchet flipped his servos so that the inside was faced followed his movement with his gaze, examined the skilled fingers which had proven to be sensitive. "I guess it can be compared to what our kind can transfer throughout our servos."  
The yellow helmet fell back against the medic's chassis questioningly. "Don't play the shy one, you've asked me," Ratchet encouraged him and waited until Bumblebee had laid the tips of his servos upon his own.  
"You will notice that humans use it to share their affection for each other. With a direct connection of our hands we can transmit a lot of different emotions, including affection," he explained and wondered how much time had passed since he had to explain it to someone or even experience it by himself. War had stolen a lot of enjoyable things out of their existence.

They sat silent for a cycle with none of them complaining about the comfortable togetherness they shared. Suddenly a painful squeal escaped Ratchet as a feeling of pain sizzled through his system. With a loud 'clang' his wrench hit the yellow helm of the scout.  
"We were talking about showing affection and not burning my circuit, you little glitch. I can assure you, young one, this won't bring any affection back to you."  
Bumblebee beeped his apology and even through the mouth plating was closed ever since the scout lost his voice box, the smirk was transmitted through his optics.  
With a snort Ratchet turned back to their connected servos and transferred a feeling of affection to Bumblebee's sensors. He felt how the frame of the younger Autobot stiffened as the comfortable burning feeling raced through his cables. A uplifting whirring sound was heard from the yellow one before he turned his gaze towards the medic, who smirked.  
"That's how it is done," Ratchet told him and was about to remove his hands from under the black ones. But he didn't got the chance as the feeling he sent the younger one suddenly flowed back into himself. A low groan escaped him as his EM field, which was still wrapped around both of them, transmitted the feeling of longing and enjoyment.

It was somewhere in that astrosecond and the one to follow that Ratchet lost track of their surroundings, when he leaned his helmet against Bumblebee's and shut his optics, responding to the energy waves both of them exchanged, filling him with a long-forgotten warmth the war couldn't possibly provide. His system was running wild and warned him about the tension and heat that was rising inside of him. Ratchet simply switched off the diagnostic system and concentrated on the younger one in his arms.

"Ratchet." The call brought both of the Autobots back in the here and now. They onlined their optics, facing each other with a similar expressions of longing, before they looked around the control room which was still empty.  
"Ratchet, Bumblebee, are you receiving?" The voice of their leader came through the communication system, reminding them of their duty. With a last exchange of affectionate energy, Ratchet removed his hands and stood up to walk over to the console.  
"Receiving. Optimus, what do you need?"  
"We need a groundbridge. Smokescreen is lightly damaged, be prepared."  
"Understood. I am opening the groundbridge at your current location." He activated the controls and turned back to Bumblebee, who still sat where he had left him. Both of them shared a last glance at each other, before the away team got was leaning on Optimus and Bulkhead, clearly incapable of walking on his left leg. 


	2. Chapter 2

Nanoklik: 1 second  
Cycle: 1 minute  
Groon: 2 hours  
Solar-cycle: 1 day

*~*

Solar-cycles had passed since Smokescreen had been laid in front of Ratchet on the medical berth, after he, Optimus and Bulkhead returned from their unexpected encounter with the Decepticons. No one suspected that they had interrupted a very private moment between the medic and the scout. And while Smokescreen's damages were repaired and just another memory file on his hard drive, Ratchet was far from forgetting the warm, tingling feeling which the younger one had made him feel. And the ignited flame in his spark had never gone out since.  
There had been no further opportunity to continue as Ratchet made sure he was busy with his work, although he was unable to concentrate on anything while the yellow sports car was around, seeking his attention. He carefully shoved the scout away, kept him at distance, to save them both disappointment and pain.  
After a while, Bumblebee gave up tapping on the medic's shoulder and asking what he was doing. Instead he engaged himself with Smokescreen or the endless bickering with Bulkhead. But even those circumstances couldn't fully satisfy the medic. It left him even more confused and wanting something which he knew had no place in times of war.

It was late at night on the planet they now called their home. Besides himself, nearly all of his brothers in arms had settled themselves for recharge. Even Optimus had been convinced that only a fully recharged leader would be able to guide them on this path of trial and tribulation.  
Even though he knew their security system would react to any kind of suspicious activity, Ratchet refused to go into recharge himself until the last member of Team Prime had returned safely home. Bumblebee hadn't returned from the joint patrol with Smokescreen, but had decided to remain outside. Aside from a short affirmation that he would get in touch if he got into trouble, the scout hadn't answered any transmissions from the base. The monitors in front of Ratchet were covered by calculations and texts, but a small window on the side displayed the geographical data of Bumblebee's current position. He knew that he would probably be fine. The sparkling he had been was long gone. The Camaro had become a reliable and valued member of their team who wouldn't be careless.

The youngest member of them was known for his longing for company, only seeking time by himself when something was seriously bothering him. Ratchet had felt Bumblebee's mood become gloomy, but whenever he tried to approach the scout, he had wrapped his EM field tight around himself and made clear that Ratchet's worries were not welcomed.  
The mixed feelings were confusing the medic. While he had decided to keep Bumblebee away from him, he still cared for the well-being of the younger one. With a suppressed worried sigh Ratchet leaned on the control panel in front of him. And most of all he wanted to know what was bothering the scout.

Only the whirring sounds of the computers filled the area of the command centre as he proceeded, always with one eye on Bumblebee's position. The young scout was still moving steadily, but quickly.  
Ratchet tried to convince himself that this was good, that Primus had given him a quiet moment to get some work done. But all he could do was follow Bumblebee's Global Positioning System.

The medic remembered how it was when there was more than existence from one fight to the next. When there were different worries than the survival of his own kind. When there was space for this warm, tingling feeling which grew inside his spark. One part of his processor already accepted the growing affection for Bumblebee and demanded that the medic find a solution for whatever caused him to pout. Another one scolded him to aim for something reckless, considering their assignments.  
With a low groan Ratchet lifted his servo up to his helm. What an old and frustrated fool he was to think that Bumblebee still remembered the small moment of intimacy they had shared and he couldn't let go of. In the last few days Bumblebee was working in unison with Smokescreen. Maybe the two of them just got into some kind of fight about the outcome of the latest race.

Out of the corner of his optics he noticed that Bumblebee's tracker had stopped in its motion and Ratchet's servo was already over the controls of the groundbridge as he received the transmission from the yellow Camaro. There was something odd in the voice of the ever so cheery mech, inhabiting a reserved timbre. But the medic wasn't able to guess what might had happened. He switched the tracking system off and turned around.

With slow steps Bumblebee came out of the energy field. His gaze brushed Ratchet's, but he immediately looked away. Thought the white and crimson Autobot noticed his behaviour, it was his second worry at the current moment. Bee was holding his right arm tight to his frame and it was obvious that small rills of violet fluid were running down his arm.  
"Primus, Bee. What happened?" Ratchet approached the scout and pulled him out of the groundbridge. The medic took hold of the broken arm and carefully lifted it, smelling the scent of burnt cables. He frowned worriedly, studying the damage. "Would you mind telling me what happened? You were supposed to get in touch when you get into trouble, Bumblebee." His voice was admonishing but he couldn't hide the worry. "Sit down, I will have a look at it."

Ratchet took the servo of the functional arm and drew the scout to the small medical section. He noticed how Bumblebee grasped his servos tightly. Although the medic didn't look down he responded with a gentle squeeze of his own. At the same time he was searching for a response in the EM field of the younger one, but he had wrapped it around himself to avoid anyone guessing what he was feeling.  
He turned to Bumblebee, who looked away again when he became aware of the bright blue optics looking at him. Ratchet snorted. "Call yourself lucky that I will be busy repairing you instead of thinking about how to make you confess what you have done."

Bumblebee was shoved onto the medical berth, and let go of Ratchet's hand so the medic could observe the damage under more appropriate light. He took the arm plating off and raised the ridges of his optics when he had a closer look at the sensitive wiring below.  
Reluctant, the scout muttered that he was careless but refused to give any more details. He sat straight on the berth with his functioning arm resting on his leg. It was obvious that he felt pain but he didn't complain. Neither did he talk more than necessary.

"I won't be able to switch off the pain receptors, as I need to know where exactly you feel the pain. But I will add cooling liquid to ease it," Ratchet explained in a calm voice. He was still angry and worried, but when he wrapped his field around Bumblebee he just wanted to convince the younger one to open up and trust him.  
Ratchet took a spray and added the cooling liquid in the respective area. His patient was shivering but was quiet and the medic just gave him a short glance out of the corner of his eyes. Skilled fingers brushed over wires, shoving them aside to have a deeper look at burned cables connected to the primary weapon systems of the Camaro. An energon line was damaged, which explained the faint traces of fluid on his arm. It was nothing serious, nothing that Ratchet wouldn't be able to fix in a matter of nanokliks. But he began to wonder what exactly 'careless' meant, when it brought him their scout back like this. He had an idea what had happened but he wasn't sure yet what would make Bumblebee act like that.

He turned away from Bumblebee for a cycle to get the tools and replacement equipment to repair the younger one. When Ratchet came back, he sat down next to his patient. "Can you move your arm up for me?" Bumblebee nodded and Ratchet helped him to carefully lift the scout's arm, placing his servo on his shoulder. "That's it. I need to exchange a wire. By tomorrow your system should be working as good as new," the medic promised.  
Absorbed in his work, Ratchet went quiet for a cycle, waiting for the right klik to push the young one further for answers

"I will add in the report that there was a malfunction in your weapon system which I hadn't noticed during the last check up. But you might want to tell me what happened. If you plan in coming back like this more often, I need to stock up on spare parts." While he was worried for Bumblebee, he also had to keep in mind that their possibilities were limited on this planet. He lifted his gaze to look at Bee, but the scout remained quiet.  
"You don't have to answer, I can tell you what you did," Ratchet added as his question faded unanswered. "You initiated an overcharge of your system and fried the wires on your own. In the attempt to cause a small injury you damaged an energon line." He looked up to the scout, who held his gaze for the first time since he returned.  
"Do you have a virus in your mainframe?" His words were harsher than he wanted them to be, but Ratchet couldn't help but be angry with the younger one. "Frag, Bumblebee, what was this all about?" he vented.

The words Bumblebee spoke managed to interrupt Ratchet's ongoing rant, and he barely noticed how the yellow scout took hold of his right servo. At the same time the younger one released his field around himself and brushed with a wave of hurt feeling over Ratchet.  
"I haven't been avoiding you. This is ridiculous, we were all busy." The medic drew his hand back, fully aware that he had turned away from Bumblebee for a few solar-cycles, but he hadn't noticed that it had affected the scout so much. "And for that matter, this scrap idea of yours wouldn't change anything," he muttered.

Once again he was interrupted in his attempt replacing the burnt wire as his hand was dragged from its work anew.  
"I need to get this done, Bee. We need all of you on the field," Ratchet said with a sigh, but didn't fight against the gentle grip around his servo as it was guided to the facial plating of the mech opposite of him. Bumblebee's engine revved in a way that could have passed as the purr of a cybercat.  
Unable to withdraw from the more than welcome sensation, Ratchet smiled in defeat and gently stroked over the smooth texture of Bumblebee's plating. His spark was pulsating against in its casing to remind the older mech of the affections he felt for the scout, which he had tried to suppress. He had failed miserably.  
He drew his hand back and shifted his gaze back to the self-inflicted damage. It took him several attempts to restart his vocal system, before he added in a low voice, "I can't give you what you are searching for, little Bee. It would be a distraction from our tasks." He paused when he pulled out a fried wire and began to connect the new one. "And our existence could end at any time."

The following silence rested heavy on their frames. It broke Ratchet's spark to understand that he caused the distress himself. And it hurt even more to turn the younger one down. He did not dare to look up in the sad face of the other mech. Instead the medic tried to embrace Bumblebee with his EM field and transmit how sorry he felt for all this. In the lack of a response in either way Ratchet looked up and met a determined gaze, far from being sad or lost.  
'It could end at every time. But imagine the war is won, and there is no one who compensates you for all the commitments you have made. We lost so much but this is something we don't have to endure alone.' Ratchet remembered Bumblebee's soft baritone, even when it was just the clicking and whirring he was able to hear.  
Working in silence again he lifted the servos off his shoulder and followed the cable to its beginning. "I don't want to lose another lover to the war," he said quietly, more to himself than to the mech who was fighting for his acknowledgment.  
'And I don't want to lose a lover to the scrap press,' was the chirping response which left Ratchet staring at him in dismay. But instead of scolding him, he drew the scout towards him, carefully to not to hurt the damaged arm.

"Give this old 'Bot some time to adapt to those thoughts," he asked and leaned his helm against Bumblebee's. "And I don't plan to end up on the scrap press anytime soon, little Bee." He stroked gently over the other's armor plating. The light vibration of the scout's engine was a tickling sensation which left the medic with a smile of solace.  
Black servos searched for their counterpart, brushing over sensitive sensors of the medic. 'That means we are going to recharge together?'  
Ratchet's laugh vibrated through the frame of the smaller one. "Which part of 'give the old 'Bot some time' didn't you understand?" He closed his optics and felt how their bodies exchanged low charges over their connected servos. "I have to work for another groon."

With a low clicking sound Bumblebee confirmed that he was going to wait for him to finish, promising to not interrupt him, maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

Nanoklik: 1 second  
Cycle: 1 minute  
Klik: 1.2 seconds  
Megacycle: 93 hours  
Stellar cycle: 1 year  
Meta-cycle: 13 months  
Vorn: 83 years

Not in recharge any more, not fully awake yet. Ratchet was aware of his state but unwilling to online his optics. He felt rested expect for so many times when their current tasks had left him exhausted. Ever since the night the scout returned with his self-inflicted damage to gain the medic's attention, things had changed. Despite his worries, Ratchet had given in and allowed the younger one to occupy a part of his spark that had been empty for far too long. So much time had passed, but he never had regretted what had started on that night over a meta-cycle ago.

Along with the tasks at their servos, they had protected their privacy and longed for the rare moment they were able to spend with each other. Since Cybertron had been restored, the time Ratchet was able to spend with Bumblebee lessened, with his stationing on Earth. He paid occasional visits when his skills were required, or to visit his lover. Who else could brag that their mate would burn this much Energon just to be near the other one? Primus save him for anyone finding out…  
His current stay on his home planet was for the latter reason. And a night like this, where the medic knew the black and yellow scout was recharging right next to him, made up for all the distance which separated them most of the time. At some points of their journey, he thought that there was no way they would make it. But he was glad to look back and know that the scout still lay in his arms.

Ratchet laid on his back just a few servos' breadth away from the edge of Bumblebee's berth. Of course he had private quarters assigned to him, but he had all his possessions with Bumblebee and spent his time with him whenever he was home.  
One after another, the medic's systems came back online. His right servo was the first one to set itself in motion, searching the space on his right side for the other mech. The berth seemed to be empty and Ratchet frowned for a klik. However, he felt the younger one's presence and his EM field not too far away from him. A feeling of longing washed over the medic's frame as his own electromagnetic field reached out for the other mech.

"If I am not mistaken, your place is next to me," Ratchet grumbled and raised his servos to search for his lover when he felt a pair of servos stroking over his chest armor. Their digits transmitted the gentle vibration of Bumblebee's revving engine. It was an all-too-familiar sensation to Ratchet, and gave the scout's current position away. The medic onlined his optics, looking directly in the blue optics of his lover who knelt over him, one leg on each side of Ratchet's waist and his servos placed on the other one's upper frame.  
"I like it up here too," Bumblebee chuckled when the medic finally reacted. "Besides, I remember you told me, you wanted to recharge."  
"I can hardly recharge when I get distracted like that," Ratchet responded with an annoyed expression, but for some reason he wouldn't mind not being fully recharged when he had to go back to Earth.  
The scout leaned forward, fully aware of his lover's foul moods when his recharge was disturbed, and spoke directly in the medic's audio output: "Go back into recharge if you want to. Don't mind me." Black servos drew circle patterns in the area over the medic's grill and spread low charges over the plating, knowing that the small sparks would beckon his owner to take the invitation of the scout. And Ratchet didn't need a second one.

With a sigh of pleasure the medic's servos slid up the black legs. Reaching Bumblebee's hips, he pulled the sports car down to sit on him. He knew that their paint jobs would mingle with each other before each of them would reach their peak. But he didn't mind. For a while now he had thought that black would matched his own colors perfectly.  
He scouted the seams of the younger one's lower frame, searching for already discovered spots which allowed him to reach sensitive wires below with the digits of his servos and maybe a new possibility. He spared the area around his interface panel and simply stroked around the close appliance on the scout's lower stomach. Bumblebee's black and yellow frame trembled - Ratchet intended to challenge the speedster with his slower way to enjoy their togetherness, fully aware of how impatient his lover could get. At the same time, the medic was unable to deny Bumblebee anything once he began to beg.

The younger one leaned his frame forward, touching the front plating from the medic with his headlights and stroking upwards over the exposed neck area. Low discharges teased the cables on Ratchet's neck and tempted the medic to lean his helm back and moan.  
Servos traveled fast and slipped under the scout's black armor to fondle wires and cables, searching for various wire nodes to return the favor. Bumblebee's engines revved under the caress of his lover as he bucked up his upper body and offlined his optics for a nanoklik to let the sensation wash over him.  
Ratchet took advantage of the distraction and sat up. The younger one slid in his lap, willingly wrapped his legs around the white and red frame and laced his pedes behind the other ones back. Venting to cool his systems, the medic spoke words of affection in their mother tongue while he leaned forward and forced the scout to bend further backwards. A trail of electric discharge stroked up his arms. Bumblebee didn't try to hold on, knowing Ratchet would hold him.

Heat radiated between both of their frames and grew with each touch they shared. Ratchet leaned his helm against the chest plating which covered the younger one's spark, feeling the pulse which perfectly matched his own.  
Bumblebee's voice formed sounds of longing as he grinded his hips against the medic's lap, begging for more attention. Their interface panels barely touched, but were near enough to feel the tension of their desires. The scout rolled his helm back, lost in another moan.  
Holding the yellow 'Bot with one servo, Ratchet's other hand travelled down the trembling frame. Paying attention to each seam and sensitive wire he slowly neared the desired spot. Impatiently, Bumblebee's body leaned into the touch on his abdominal plating, mewling sounds escaping him while he writhed under the medic's touch in the most appealing way.

With a smile on his facial plating, Ratchet let out a lustful growl. "Good things come to those who wait, little Bee," he said and circled the panel, skipping it on purpose. He offlined his optics with a moan when he felt a wave of small sparks on his helm, ignited by the servos of the younger one as an answer to his teasing.  
Small black servos travelled down his neck, sliding down his white and red frame and seeming to burn his heated plating even more. Craving for each of the sensual touches, the medic was unable to follow his own journey over the younger ones frame. Groaning shamelessly, he moved himself against the scout, not minding the scratches they would find all over them in the morning.

Ratchet's interface panel slid open immediately when the scout's prying servos reached their destination. The tips of Bumblebee's servos trailed the outlines of the medic's port and the tip of medic's jack-plug. Onlining his optics, Ratchet lifted his helm and looked in the blue optics above him. Bumblebee's gaze transmitted sly amusement and an undeniable lust.

Skilled servos stroked over the panel of the younger one, demanding access to his most sensitive equipment. Bumblebee obeyed and leaned back on the servos which kept him upright. Carefully he unwound the cable out of Ratchet's panel and felt his lover following his example, plugging the scout into him and establishing the desired connection. Ratchet pulled him up to his chest plate and leaned his helm against the other's. His servos traveled over the edges of Bumblebee's doorwings, leaving both lovers venting for air while the connection got initiated.

Bumblebee's frame went rigid when the first data transfer was exchanged over their cables. His helm rolled back and the servos on the medic's shoulders gripped the armor tightly. With a shameless moan of pleasure, the medic let himself be washed away by the sensations. Freeing one of his servos, Ratchet placed it over the spark of the younger one, feeling the fast pulse vibrating under his sensors. Caressing the area, the scout leaned himself back to give him more room while he sank into the mutual pleasure of their connecting.  
Carefully, Ratchet pulled the scout back to his chest and took Bumblebee's hand off his own shoulder to place it on the armor above his spark chamber. The scout's engine revved with desire when he onlined his optics suddenly, as he felt the armor part under his touch.

Another data exchange rushed through their systems - their helms leaned against each other, bathing in pleasure. When they looked at each other again, a faint blue glow filled the space between them. Bumblebee looked at the pulsating orb inside Ratchet's chest, looking up in surprise. They had discussed this and Bumblebee had agreed to wait until the war was over, as Ratchet had asked.  
"Are you sure?" Bumblebee asked in awe. With the Decepticons disbanded, there was, after so many vorns, hope for a peace, although it would need time for Cybertron to be up and about again. He hadn't brought the topic up anymore, but it was a painful wish in his mind and spark whenever he thought of his mate.  
Ratchet took the servos of his lover once more and placed them on his facial plating, nuzzling against them. His vocal systems rebooted several times in between the low moans, before he was able to express himself. "Primus, I wouldn't want it any other way." A smile lost in desire spoke of the sincerity of his request. "Looking back today, I shouldn't have asked you to wait that long."  
Bumblebee turned his servos to take hold of Ratchet's, sending waves of affection over their connected sensors. "I think tonight is perfect, Ratchet."

As the scout's armor parted the glow was doubled and bathed them in a faint blue light. Merely apart, the tendrils of their sparks were already reaching out for each other, longing to be united as much as their owners. Bumblebee leaned his helm forward with a static moan, pulling the medic close to him and embracing everything he offered, everything he was.  
Keeping the scout close to him, Ratchet was washed away by the wave of sensations. From one klik to the next, the younger one became an indispensable part of his very existence. Leaving traces in his processor, systems and each vital part of himself. Ratchet was overwhelmed by the feeling of once again accepting this bond with another mech. For stellar cycles, he had only remembered what it was like to lose, and he had forgotten how it felt to accept someone close to his spark. The medic swore to himself, he wouldn't make this mistake twice.

With a muffled moan against the neck of the scout, Ratchet felt how his systems heated up as they approached the critical point. He didn't need the bond between himself and Bumblebee to feel the youngster stepping over the edge when the frame in his arms tensed up. Static sounds of pleasure mixed with Ratchet's voice when he followed.

As the sound of their voices faded away, only the whirring efforts of their vents was heard in the medic quarters. Still entangled with each other, the two Autobots enjoyed the moment of bliss. Gently stroking over the back plating of the other one, they realized that even if the galaxy separated them, they would never be apart from each other.  
Bumblebee whimpered silently when he felt the loss of the other one's spark when they separated from each other. He nuzzled against the medic and let his engines rev in his satisfaction.  
"We should make use of the rest of the night cycle, before I have to leave again," Ratchet suggested and carefully disconnected them from each other.  
The scout slid off his mate and made himself comfortable next to him. With a cheeky smile he responded: "I wouldn't mind another round if you insist."  
Ratchet's optic ridges rose as he looked down at Bumblebee. "I 'm talking about recharge, little Bee. This old 'Bot lacks your stamina." His words just gained him an amused chuckle.

Bumblebee purred words of endearments to his medic while leaning against Ratchet's broad chest plate.  
Even in the dim light of his quarters, Ratchet was able to make out streaks of white paint on the black and yellow frame. It looked good on him and awoke the desire to let everyone know who this scout belonged to. On the other servo, they mustn't rush, as long as they knew who was in possession of their sparks.

Suddenly Bumblebee moved in his arms and raised himself up. The medic followed his gaze into the rest of the dark, quiet hallway of his housing.  
"Did you hear that?" he asked and looked down to Ratchet.  
With a groan, the older Autobot pulled him back into his arms. "Don't ask me to check for Unicron under your berth. I can assure you, he isn't hiding there. Lay down again."  
Bumblebee snorted but did as he was told. "If he shows up tonight, I'm leaving you to him."  
"Charming. Only remember that we are bonded now. Wherever I go, you will follow." Ratchet offlined his optics to give himself a well-deserved recharge.

* * *

Primus knew, he was relieved that he was the only mech to be seen on the hallway in which Bumblebee's quarters was located. Smokescreen was aware that Knock Out was living here as well, imagine if he had walked by to see him sneaking out of his buddy's quarters in the middle of the night-cycle.

With a huff he leaned against the door which had closed behind him and heard his vents kick in to cool down his systems. He couldn't think of a more awkward situation to blunder into. He covered his face with his servo and growled in embarrassment.  
Smokescreen had been aware of the close friendship between the medic and scout, but he had no idea how close they were. That was until he mindlessly entered his friend's quarters this night. He didn't even know that Ratchet was back on Cybertron.

The reason he had entered Bumblebee's private quarters had seemed good, at least a while ago. Bumblebee had contacted him earlier this evening to let him know that he wouldn't meet up with Bulkhead, Wheeljack and him for a cube of high-grade. In possession of the access code and already intoxicated, Smokescreen agreed that Bumblebee's reasons were not enough to bail on them.

They haven't seen him at the end of the small corridor but Primus, he had seen more than he ever wanted to.

His gaze shifted to the white panel next to the door, which asked him to enter the correct entrance code, but Smokescreen vowed to himself to never use it on this particular quarters ever again, if not asked by it's owner.


End file.
